Varnish
by Seynee
Summary: That night he holds her under the yawning moon. — Masaomi, Saki.


**notes:** Okay, so… this is set after the anime ends, and maybe a little before novel number five? In any case, enjoy!

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><p><strong>varnish<br>**_was this the life we dreamed of?_

.

Their apartment is small and almost completely run-down, a one-bedroom flat with one bathroom and everything else meshed together into a tiny, cramped space. It smells faintly of the vanilla-scented freshener they bought two months ago, three days after they left town, but mostly of dust and damp air. The faded green walls are paper-thin and every time he comes home, the first thing he sees is the old stain right in the middle of the room, permanent and large.

On days when he's feeling particularly melancholic, Masaomi wonders if this is what the rest of their lives look like; if he has stolen Saki away from the shadows that is Ikebukuro just to thrust her into yet another darkness he cannot defeat.

Money is always tight even with both of them working. His own job at the supermarket has two perks: it's more muscle work so education is not a problem and they often get free food. Sure, it's mostly crackers nearing their expiration date, vegetables with questionable quality, old rice—but food is food, and Saki has this convenient ability to turn whatever ingredient into something edible, so at least they're covered on that front.

What makes him so unsettled, Masaomi supposes, is how _contented_ she seems to be.

Every night when he gets home at around nine, Saki is fussing about in the kitchen, humming to herself a detergent commercial song and preparing a late dinner for both of them. He watches the news as she finishes up then helps her set the table. They've slipped into such a routine so easily, it almost feels like they have been doing this for eight years instead of eight weeks. Dinner is a simple affair tonight: two bowls of rice, steamed cauliflower florets, and marinated fish.

"The bakery wasn't busy today," Saki tells him, murmuring a quick _itadakimasu_ before she begins eating, "I got those meat buns you liked so much. We can have them for breakfast tomorrow."

"Sure," Masaomi nods with a mouthful of rice, pausing when he notices an envelope sitting on the corner of the table. Peering at it, he puts down his chopsticks and reaches for it. "A late payment notice," he murmurs, an automatic grin tugging on the corners of his mouth when he sees the immediate anxiety creasing her brows. "It's the first time I've received this kind of thing."

Saki hesitates. "Do we have enough—"

"Of course," he cuts her off, shrugging. "I'll talk to my manager tomorrow and see if I can get an early payment. I'm sure he'll say yes." He shakes his head in mock disapproval at her when she opens her mouth to say something. "This isn't the kind of thing we should talk about during dinner, Saki." He picks up a piece of cauliflower and pops it into his mouth. "Mmm, delicious!"

She grins back. "Don't lie."

"But I'm not lying! They're really good," he transfers one particularly large piece into her bowl, "and very healthy, too. You should eat more, Saki."

She laughs, then, relaxes as she begins recounting the bakery's customers: a pretty woman on a diet that made her very cranky; an old man buying sweet delicacies for his grandchildren who were coming to visit, a teenaged boy buying a large chocolate cake for his girlfriend's birthday. "It was kind of cute, actually," she says after swallowing the last of the fish. "He spent forever deciding which cake to buy, what message to write, and then which type of candles and which box to use. It took almost an hour, but I guess it means he really wants to make her happy—"

"Saki."

She blinks at the sudden interruption. "What?"

"Do you regret it?" Masaomi asks, very softly. He'll never tell her this but the question has gnawed on his insides ever since they left. "Leaving Ikebukuro, leaving Izaya, coming with me… do you regret it?"

Her lips parting, Saki sets her chopsticks down on the table and stares at him, her gaze deep and dark with surprise, before she reaches out to touch his hand. "No," she says eventually, a familiar warmth rising in the brown depths of her eyes as she gives him a look deeper than he had ever seen. "No, of course I don't regret this."

"But—"

"I don't regret us, Masaomi," she whispers, fingertips feathering across his knuckles, her voice low and honeyed, "I can never regret us."

There is something about this, he thinks later that night as he lies next to her under the blanket; there is something about this, something about _her_, that he wants to protect, that he wants to cherish, that he wants to keep forever. It makes him feel both invincible and vulnerable at the same time, so unapologetically beautiful that it catches his breath and pools in the pit of his stomach, warm and familiar and so utterly _brilliant_—varnish has no place in this.

And maybe it's enough, he thinks. Maybe this is enough. Maybe they're enough_. _

That night he holds her under the yawning moon and lets her heartbeats lull him to sleep.

.

**end.**

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><p><strong>notes:<strong> Here's hoping I'm not the only one who likes this pairing? D:


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